


A Tale of Three Bottles

by my_angry_angel



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Carnival Games, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_angry_angel/pseuds/my_angry_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mission sends Clint and Bruce to a carnival, where Clint wins Bruce a giant teddy bear</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Three Bottles

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/48282947825/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-winning-person-b-a

Bruce didn’t know what kind of depraved soul would use a carnival to smuggle drugs and weapons into the country, but the New York State Police had politely asked SHIELD to look into rumors of smuggling. It was in a small town, without enough officers to send undercover. So, Bruce and Clint found themselves wandering around the carnival. Why he’d been picked, Bruce didn’t know. It probably had something to do with Clint. The archer had been picked first, and probably asked that Banner go with him. Or, more likely, demanded it.

They’d seen no signs of smuggling so far, despite having wandered around for hours. Bruce was just about to suggest giving up when Clint grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the Ferris wheel. “C’mon. We’ll see more from higher up.” Bruce knew that the logic was sound; they’d most assuredly be able to see farther. Whether they’d see better, however, was a different matter. It was entirely possible that Clint would be able to see far enough, but the ride was probably too short for him to view the entire carnival.

Still, he didn’t argue when Barton pulled him into the line. “If you say so,” he laughed. Even though this was technically a mission, he was having more fun than he’d had in years. The line moved quickly as children piled into cars, and they managed to get on the ride without waiting too long. As soon as the car started moving, Clint wrapped an arm around Bruce’s shoulders and cuddled in close. The scientist couldn’t help but lay his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You’re alright, Cupid,” he murmured.

Clint laughed and pressed his lips to the top of Bruce’s hair. “You’re not so bad yourself, Jade Jaws.” Banner looked up to him and gave a small smile. The archer smiled back and leaned in to press his lips to Bruce’s in a soft, sweet kiss. The scientist allowed it to go on for several seconds before pulling back.

“I thought we were supposed to be looking for smugglers,” he whispered.

“You really think we’ll be able to see anything from up here?” Clint replied with a laugh, then kissed him again. Bruce wanted to protest further, but he forgot his argument under those gently probing lips. They continued kissing, surfacing only to breathe, until the ride came to a stop. Clint pulled back with a grin and stepped out of the car, holding tight to Bruce’s hand, leaving the scientist with little choice but to follow.

When he saw Clint’s destination, he shook his head. The milk bottle game, which was almost impossible to win. “Those things are rigged,” he protested. But the archer was undeterred. 

“They’re hard to beat, but it can be done.” Bruce was just about to ask how Clint knew how to beat it when he remembered the archer had grown up in a carnival. He probably knew the secrets to all the games.

“Okay, let’s see it, bird brain,” Bruce said with a grin. Clint smirked and forked over the dollar. The carnie handed the balls over and stood back.

Barton hefted the first ball, looking over his shoulder to the other man. “Watch and learn, big guy.” He took aim and launched the ball, toppling all three bottles.

“Well, consider me impressed,” Bruce said, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t know it could be done.”

“Just gotta know how, Doc,” Clint said, grinning at him.

The carnie motioned to the wall of prizes. “Take your pick,” he said, sounding incredibly bored.

Both men turned to look at the stuffed animals, and Bruce groaned when he saw the oversized teddy bear hanging on the end of the rack. It was at least three and a half feet tall, and bigger around than either Clint or Bruce. It was just the thing Clint would choose. And the archer didn’t surprise him. The carnie wrestled the bear off its hook and passed it over. Barton immediately thrust it into Bruce’s hands. “To remind you that nothing’s impossible,” he said with a smirk.

Bruce laughed and took the bear. It was corny and cliché, but he loved it. “Thanks,” he said, tangling his fingers in the fur so he could wrap an arm around Clint’s waist. “Listen, I haven’t seen any sign of smuggling. What do you say we get out of here?”

“Sounds good,” Barton answered, leading him away from the booth. His arm snaked around Bruce’s shoulders, pulling him closer as they walked toward the car.


End file.
